Natasha settled as soon as he indicated his preference, her back against the wall, and once Tony had joined her on the ground, she leaned her shoulder against his, just a little. Enough that it wouldn't come off as patronizing, but also enough so that he didn't have to do this without some unspoken indication that she understood. This was a weight, and it was somewhere between benediction and torture. He was really the only one who could decide which way it would fall, but Natasha wanted to be next to him, when he did. Come to think of it, she might have been the only person currently in Starklandia who was suited to this particular task.
She took out her phone. The battery was running low and there was a thin crack spiderwebbing across the screen - even a StarkPhone concealed behind klevlar couldn't hold up against the kind of fall Natasha had taken, but it still turned on. (She may or may not have been reading old text conversations with people to soothe herself, a little. May or may not have been looking through her own camera reel and anxious, a little, about what she'd do if it died forever. But Tony had said he could charge it. It would be okay. It'd be fine, and it wasn't about that, anyway.)
Instead of going to her own camera roll, she opened up the chain between herself and Pepper and clicked attachments. Those were the best ones, and the one at the very top: a purple tent as the background, surrounded by trees. Tony, sitting on a tree stump. And Morgan on his lap, their heads bent together conspiratorially as they examined a toolbox. An actual toolbox, heavy wrenches, screwdrivers. "Pepper said you gave her a plastic set of toy ones, for her birthday this year," she said, quietly. "Well - among other things, but she said when Morgan opened them, she looked right at you and said 'no'. She wanted you to teach her about the ones you use, you know. Tinkering. Real ones or fuck off, Tony."